User blog comment:Llamao/ The Revolts of the Dreaded Lands/@comment-3474228-20110531225014

A sizable ship leaves the docks of The Dreaded Lands, carrying a crew of a little over threescore. The crew, made up of all manner of vermin, drink grog and sing and dance happily, owing to the fact that they are finally away from their forsaken island.

The timbers of the mainmast groan as the ship passes over a cresting wave. A group of rats aboard sing an old corsair ballad lustily, under the watchful eye of Greengate Skelton, their ship's captain. Raccla, Greengate's second in command, stands nearby as well.

A ferret stands next to his companion, a weasel, looking back at the grim dark island in the distance. "Glad we got te leave that place, eh, matey?" The weasel nods. "Aye, things're goin' crazy on that island. Thank the gods we left in time. I bet there's a fight goin' on right now!"

Bound for Mossflower country, the ship, named Poisonfang, has a large spike drilled into the front wooden portion of the massive wooden structure. Gliding over the waters like an angel, the beautiful ship hides the greatest threat to Mossflower yet.